


A Kiss in the Night

by China_Rose



Series: Sealed With A Kiss [1]
Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:57:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/China_Rose/pseuds/China_Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you do get what you wish for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kiss in the Night

[](http://photobucket.com)  
Banner by China Rose

**A Kiss in the Night**  
 **Pairing:** Galahad/?  
 **Comments and Reviews:** Always welcome  
 **Beta:** Thoks thanks for always doing my edits at the drop of a hat.  
 **Disclaimer:** No money is made from this story. The characters are not mine they belong to the pages of history, myth and legend and more recently _Hollywood!_ So please pass this creation off as the wild imagination of one who adores the _King Arthur_ movie verse characters.

************************************************** 

Sometimes we fail to see that which is in front of us and sometimes when it is in front of us we fail to realize we actually want it.

“One day pup you will beg me for a kiss.”

It was a simple throwaway line to rile the young knight and elicit a response. It worked of course and Lancelot could not have been more pleased. It was always the way with these two. They both needed to have the last word.

“Kiss my arse Lancelot. You would be the last person I would kiss,” scoffed Galahad. Why the mere thought of the man near him in that way was abhorrent. He never could understand why so many people swooned over the dark-eyed knight. “The only way you would get a kiss or anything else off me is for you to take it.”

“Be careful what you wish for young Galahad,” replied the cocky First Knight. 

Galahad laughed and shook his head. Lancelot’s arrogance never failed to amaze him. He happily left the tavern, content to accept that this time Lancelot had won the last word. The First Knight wouldn’t be so lucky next time. 

A few nights later, as he walked the darkened corridors to his quarters, Galahad was suddenly set upon by an unknown assailant. Rough hands grabbed his tunic and dragged him down a dark alley where he was shoved up against a stone wall. His attacker pinned him to the wall using the weight of their body, one arm was pressed across the young man’s throat while the other rested near his head providing balance for his unseen assailant.

“What do you want,” he spat as he tried to wrest the arm from his neck. 

In response the attacker pushed his arm harder against Galahad’s throat causing the man to gasp for air.

Galahad had no idea who his attacker was. The alley was dark, there was no moon to shed a shard of light and his attacker was dressed in dark clothes. He could have been anyone. All Galahad could tell was that the man was taller than he was, a broader build and he had beard. He knew he had a beard because the man’s face was so close to his and if Galahad didn’t know better he could have sworn the man was breathing in his scent.

“Who are…” he gasped but his words were cut off by the demanding lips that now pressed against his own and an insistent tongue that forced entry into his mouth. 

His attacker had never uttered a word but his intentions now terrified Galahad, as the young knight realised that the man was obviously not interested in robbing him. He had never kissed another man, never been a shield brother and had never had man at all. It wasn’t that he was against being with men; it just never crossed his mind that it might be something he should explore. Now feeling the weight of the unknown man against him, smelling his musky odor, tasting him, Galahad was out of his depth and clearly afraid. 

He frantically tried to break free but the man pressed harder against him. He tried to turn his head but his attacker gripped his head with his spare hand, his fingers woven through Galahad’s unruly curls holding him firm.

There was no love or passion in the kiss it was all about power and domination...at first. Then it changed. The hand in his hair didn’t let go, nor did the pressure from the arm across his throat lessen and the body pressed against his, if anything, seemed to lean in closer to him but the kiss, it had become…well sensual. The tongue that had plundered his mouth now explored it and to his shock, Galahad began to respond to the kiss. It wasn’t a conscious decision but a primeval reaction to his situation. 

Galahad felt himself harden and he certainly could feel the hardness of the man pressed against him. His hips jerked forward at the sensation of the hard length crushing his own and he groaned loudly. He didn’t want to enjoy it but it felt good. _Too_ good.

His hands no longer fought the arm across his throat but instead grabbed the body pressed against him as he tried to bring their bodies even closer together. His tongue sought entrance into his attacker’s mouth and their tongues dueled for dominance in this the most unlikely of meetings. In the end Galahad surrendered himself to the moment and let the man take what he so obviously wanted. 

However, like all new and overpowering experiences all too soon it was over. 

“Noooo...” whispered Galahad

The arm across his throat was withdrawn and the body eased back from his and Galahad found that he missed both the pressure and warmth of it against him. The hand in his hair moved down to cup his cheek and for a moment there was real tenderness in the touch.

“Please?” He didn’t mean to plead, he really didn’t and he really didn’t understand what he was asking for; the word just slipped out.

Before he could do or say anything more his attacker fled into the night leaving Galahad hard, hot and stunned. He leaned back against the wall, his breathing laboured and his body shaking. 

_What just happened? Why had it happened?_

Galahad didn’t know what to do. Did he tell someone about it? _No!_ He thought. How could he hold his head up high as a knight and then wail that he was accosted in the dark and kissed to within an inch of his life. He would be a laughing stock. Instead he pulled himself together and hurried to his room. Once inside he bolted the door and sat heavily on his bed, his head in his hands.

He was somewhat overwhelmed by it all but it was _just_ a kiss, nothing more. Maybe the man liked to kiss strangers, maybe he had targeted Galahad, and perhaps he would attack him again? The scenarios rolled through his mind and each became bigger and more elaborate until the young knight had worked himself into a frenzy of fear and conjecture. 

In the end he sat back took a deep breath and re-thought the whole thing through and eventually Galahad realised a few things…maybe tonight at least he should bolt the door after all he truly didn’t know what the man intended to do, if anything; but better safe than sorry. He also discovered that he actually liked being kissed by a man or was it just this man he wondered? He now had a gnawing realization that maybe he had limited his horizons by bedding only women, not that there had been many of them in recent years and most importantly Galahad realised that he liked being dominated. He didn’t quite understand it but it felt right and that frightened him more than being accosted in a dark alley by a stranger. He wished he had a drink because right now he needed a strong ale. 

_How could a simple kiss change everything?_ He asked himself.

Galahad sat long into the night listening for sounds at his door and wondering if his attacker would return. He told himself he didn’t want any of it and yet absently stroked his semi hard cock as memories of the kiss flooded his mind. He told himself that kissing a man, especially one with a beard was not exciting but all the while his fingers caressed his lips as if by mere touch he could feel it all again. So by morning Galahad was tired, cranky and confused even if he had discovered a few things about himself.

He made his way to the tavern hoping that a hot meal and the company of the other knights would ease his unrest. As he entered the tavern he spotted a group of his comrades including Gawain, Tristan, Dagonet and Lancelot and headed over to sit with them.

“Morning,” he mumbled as he motioned to a serving wench for food and ale.

“Galahad is this your happy face?” asked Gawain teasing him.

“That joke is so old Gawain,”

“Not so old that I can’t tease you with it.”

Galahad rolled his eyes as his friends chuckled.

Soon enough hot stew, bread and a mug of ale were brought to him and Galahad ate heartily. He didn’t talk; he didn’t even look at the others, as he consumed all that was in front of him.

The others just stared at him as he devoured his food.

He finished the last of his food and sat back still hungry but feeling better than when he first walked in. Looking at his fellow knights he was surprised to see them staring at him.

“What?” he asked confused.

“Not hungry Galahad?” asked Gawain.

Galahad’s brow crinkled in confusion. He wasn’t sure what his friends were on about and he was too tired to try and work it out. “I’m going to get more food,” and with that he stood and headed to the bar.

“No thanks Galahad,” Lancelot called after him, knowing the man couldn’t hear him or would ignore him if he did. “We’ve had enough thanks.” 

They all laughed at their young friend. “He must be growing again,” commented Gawain.

“Or troubled,” muttered Tristan. They all stared at the scout. Tristan shrugged, “Something is on his mind. He eats so he doesn’t have to think.”

They all sat back and watched the young man as he bounced from foot to foot while chatting to the bar wench. He was all nervous energy but truth be told he was like that all the time. After all they didn’t call him a pup because he was quiet and sedate. Still today he did seem more nervous and distracted…well more than usual.

When Galahad returned to the table, plate brimming with food, once more his friends all just stared. The young man sat down and once more tucked into his food like there was no tomorrow. After a few minutes Galahad realised there was no talking and looked up to see all eyes on him.

“Whaaa?” he asked through a mouthful of bread.

“Hungry?” asked Dagonet.

“Sleep alright?” asked Tristan.

“Anything on your mind?” asked Gawain.

Galahad looked from one to other. He could feel the blush rising.

“Or don’t you kiss and tell?” stated Lancelot.

Galahad spurted a mouthful of food all over the table, coughing furiously as he tried to catch his breath.

Eyebrows were raised as the group stared in amazement at the young knight.

“Bastards,” Galahad spat. “Having fun?”

After last night he had less patience than normal and certainly didn’t want to discuss that or anything else with this lot.

The others laughed and Galahad scowled. 

With much teasing and laughter the group stood.

“We’ll leave you to your feast Galahad,” said Dagonet slapping the younger man on the back. “I’m heading over to the Great Hall.”

“Eat,” said Tristan pointing to the plate of food before hurrying to catch up with Dagonet.

“Join us when you have had your fill,” stated Gawain as he sauntered away.

“What you not going?” asked Galahad as he stared at the First Knight.

“Oh I’m going but…”

“But?” asked Galahad between bites of bread.

“Well I was wondering…”

“Oh just spit it out Lancelot,” growled a less than patient Galahad.

The First Knight bent down to face the younger man, “Well…” he leant in close to whisper in Galahad’s ear. “I was wondering if I kiss your arse will it taste as sweet as your lips?” 

Before Galahad could say or do anything the man had gone, leaving him flustered, hot and stunned. So once more he leaned back, his breathing laboured and his body shaking as the memory of a stranger in a dark alley and the most passionate kiss he had ever had and one he didn’t even know he wanted until it was gone, assaulted him once more.

The End


End file.
